


A Look your Smile can't Disguise

by Draycevixen



Category: The Professionals
Genre: Angst, Christmas, M/M, Misunderstanding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-13
Updated: 2011-04-13
Packaged: 2017-10-18 00:25:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/182960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draycevixen/pseuds/Draycevixen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A smidgen of Christmas tinged fluffy angst... flangst?</p><p>This began life as a flashslash for Snailbones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Look your Smile can't Disguise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Snailbones (spottydog)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spottydog/gifts).



.

 

“You stupid arsehole!” Bodie slammed his hands against the steering wheel. “Stupid fucking arsehole.” He smacked his head against the steering wheel too, for good measure. “It was getting better, he might have even...” his words petered out as he caught sight of a blanket enshrouded Doyle turning to stare at him from where he was sitting in the back of an ambulance. Muscles taut as he fought the urge to slam the car into reverse, he backed the Capri slowly off the quay.

 

*****

 

In a warm and dry tracksuit, crumpled in to his old ratty armchair, he stared morosely at the small Christmas tree in the corner and nursed the black cloud over his head with a bottle of single malt that was doing nothing to dispel it. Ray would ask Cowley for a new partner, no question. Who would Ray get instead? It would be odd working on his own again but he wouldn’t have a new partner, Cowley would have to lump it. He took a long pull on the bottle. It would be a relief not to have to see Ray every day.

Not to have to remember everything that had happened between them. Not to remember the stubbled kisses, the hot slide of sweat lustred skin, the way Ray’s back arched as he nipped at Ray’s collar bone. Not to remember the feel of Ray’s fingers digging in to his arse, urging him deeper or the bone deep longing as Ray, in turn, pushed slowly in to him. He shifted in the chair, adjusting his tracksuit bottoms, as his body started reacting to the memories. Not to have to remember Ray laughing up at him, eyes wide and trusting in an expression he’d never seen on Ray’s face before and that he couldn’t comprehend. Not to have to remember everything that happened between them before Ray got tired of him, before Ray called it off without any explanation. Not that he’d asked for one. It was inevitable after all, six months, two weeks, three days and six hours had been more time than he’d ever dared to hope for with Ray.

Things had been awkward between them at first, moments where he’d walked away rather than risk saying something stupid, but they’d both been determined to remain friends and partners and it had been getting easier with time. Easy enough that they’d agreed to spend Christmas together, Cowley and the job permitting. He’d even gritted his teeth and nodded through Ray’s rattling on about their chances of picking up some birds in a festive mood down the pub.

It was Christmas Eve. His eyes flickered over the clock on the mantelpiece. _Yesterday_ had been Christmas Eve. He saluted the Christmas tree with his whisky bottle. They’d been delighted when Cowley had assigned them the simple task of picking up a couple of Charlie Grayson’s men for questioning, confident that they’d then be off for Christmas. Instinctively he’d wanted to disagree when Doyle had insisted it would go faster if they separated but he’d kept his mouth shut, wanting to preserve the fragile peace between them and look what had happened.

It had all gone pear shaped and Doyle had ended up as a hostage on Grayson’s ship. He’d just made it on to the upper deck under covering fire from Anson when he’d seen Grayson turn and shoot Ray who’d fallen backwards overboard. He’d shot Grayson right between the eyes while still running across the deck. He’d been toeing his shoes off, ready to jump in to the river, when he’d been brought up short by the sight of Ray pulling himself up a rope hanging off the quay, his jumper sodden and stretched almost down to his knees.

He’d found Ray behind a storage container on the quay, shrugging out of his ruined jumper before throwing it on the ground and examining his arm.

“Grayson’s a lousy shot, thank christ. It’s just a graze, Bodie.”

Curls plastered wetly to his head, missing one boot and with his white t-shirt and worn paper thin patched jeans clinging to him like wet tissue and almost as transparent, Ray was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. When Ray threw back his head and laughed with the sheer joy of surviving, he was moving before he even realized what he was doing, crushing Ray to him, kissing him, his long held secret spilling out of his mouth. It had been a perfect moment before Ray had pushed him away. A perfect moment before he’d ruined it all.

 

“Christ Bodie, how much have you had to drink? Anyone could have broken in here.”

Bodie’s eyes snapped open to see Ray standing in the middle of the room, jingling his keys, a holdall by his feet.

“Thought they might keep you in.”

“No reason to, wouldn’t have bothered to go in the first place if Cowley hadn’t insisted. Thought you might have come to the hospital.”

“Wasn’t sure you’d want me to.”

“Pillock.”

“...What are you doing here?”

“You invited me for Christmas and all the food’s in your kitchen, remember?”

“Right.” So convenient amnesia was the particular type of charades they would be playing this Christmas. He could do that. “You’ve got dry clothes, did Anson give you a lift home?”

Doyle crossed the room, kneeling astride his lap and taking his face in his hands. “Don’t want to talk about my clothes. I came here to hear you say it again.”

“Thought you wouldn’t be interested, thought you’d do a runner if I told you.”

“Just say it.”

He looked up in to that same wide eyed look on Doyle’s face and this time he knew what it meant. Now he knew why Doyle had felt he’d had to call it off between them when he’d thought he was in it alone, alone for the first time since their partnership had started. He slipped his fingers up through Ray’s curls to the nape of his neck, then tugged him gently forward and kissed him before grinning up at him like an idiot.

“I love you, Ray. There, satisfied?”

“The feeling’s mutual, Bodie, and no, but I soon will be.”

 

.


End file.
